Goldfish.

I have a tendency to block out bad memories. Many would say this is a good thing, but there are times when it can be quite dangerous. Like when I forget that unless I wait a few minutes before sipping hot tea, I'll end up with a burnt tongue. Happens every time. Or that tequila shots will inevitably make me do things I regret. That if I try to make it to Georgetown from McLean on an empty tank of gas, I'll end up stranded on the side of the Key Bridge, and above all, I forget just how painful a crush can be. How hard I've worked to get over someone, how far I've come. So far, in fact, that I feel safe enough to let down my guard. Just for a moment. And just like that, the floodgates are reopened, and all the barriers that I've built around myself are submerged by emotion. I've allowed myself to become vulnerable again, and my own happiness is no longer mine to control. If only the memory of the pain had stuck with me- I never would have lifted that latch.